


Guinea Pig

by froochette



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, a lotttt of blushing, kumon is forced to help azami
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:29:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26410402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froochette/pseuds/froochette
Summary: Day 1 of AzaKyu Week 2020!!!Prompt: MakeupAzami's left with no choice but to use Kumon to practice makeup looks on.
Relationships: Hyoudou Kumon/Izumida Azami
Kudos: 40
Collections: AzaKyu Week 2020





	Guinea Pig

It’s pouring rain outside as Azami paces back and forth in Room 106. Sakyo is gone for the day, thank God, but on the other hand, the geezer took Yuki with him. What’s Azami going to do now? He has a huge gig tomorrow helping out with a makeup commercial. Kaz had hooked him up with the job and Azami is grateful but he had been planning on trying out a few looks on Yuki today, as he usually does. He doesn’t want to blow this. It’s a big company that he’s going to help out at and he needs to take every single opportunity he gets. He can’t mess this up one bit. 

Okay, Azami, think. He sighs. Who else is at home right now? Everyone in Winter and Spring is out for the day. Banri, Muku, and Kaz left for the art museum this morning. Misumi took Taichi and Juza triangle hunting an hour ago. Omi had recruited Tenma to help him with his photography project and the two disappeared a few hours ago. So, all that’s left was- Oh, no. No. Not Kumon. _Please_. Of all the people? Really? He stops pacing and slaps both his cheeks. He can already feel himself getting red in the face. He can’t stand being so close to Kumon for that long. There’s no way he could survive that, right? He can’t even handle it when Kumon grabs his shoulder. Even when Kumon’s fingers so much as brush his hand, Azami’s brain short circuits. 

A knock on the door snaps Azami out of his thoughts. He swings it open, only to be greeted by that same stupid face he was just thinking about. 

“Azami! What are you up to?” 

“Good timing. Come here, I need you to be my guinea pig,” Azami says, trying not to stammer. Impulsively, he reaches out and yanks Kumon inside. Kumon is obviously confused, but goes with it anyway. Anything for Azami.

“Sit down,” Azami jerks his chin at his vanity. Kumon takes a seat and watches as Azami turns on his ring light. “Yuki’s usually my model but that geezer took him and I need to practice for tomorrow. You’re the only one here.”  
“Oh,” Kumon smiles at the younger. Azami has to look away and busy himself with his set-up. Kumon’s smile is so big, it always throws him off. 

“Are you just gonna do my makeup?” Kumon asks excitedly.

“Yeah. I’m gonna try out a few looks on you. You don’t have to do anything today, right?”  
“Nope~ My only plan was to hang out with you,” Kumon grins. Azami has to fight his blush back. He immediately sends Kumon to go wash his face. The second Kumon steps out of the room, Azami presses his face into his hands, screaming silently. This is not happening, no way. Is he going to be okay? He feels so warm yet it’s chilly outside. Kumon returns quickly and Azami hands him a headband before sorting through his makeup supplies. When Azami turns back around, he stares at Kumon incredulously.

“Do you know how to put a headband on?” Azami sighs, pulling it off his head. He moves to stand in front of Kumon. 

“Isn’t it like a sweatband?” Kumon looks up at him curiously. 

“No!” Azami snaps. He grabs Kumon’s face with his hands and straightens it so Kumon is looking at Azami’s stomach. The close proximity is killing them both, cheeks flushing red. Azami slips the headband over Kumon’s head and it falls around his neck. When Azami’s fingers brush against Kumon’s neck, pulling the headband back up, they both burst into quiet flames. Azami’s fingers against his forehead, moving through his hair, adjusting his headband, they feel like hot metal searing on Kumon’s head. Azami moves aside and turns back around, reaching for his makeup. He begins to lecture Kumon about what is what. Kumon isn’t even processing the information. He’s enamored watching Azami speak with so much passion. The way Azami’s fingers sweep gently across powders and press against his own wrist- Kumon so badly wants that touch. 

Kumon completely forgets that Azami doing his makeup means he’ll get that touch he wants. He forgets that Azami is going to be mere inches away from his face. Usually, it’s Yuki who does it for Summer Troupe shows, and Yuki does the bare minimum, and can get aggressive if Kumon moves around too much. But with Azami... it’s different. Kumon finds it hard to stay still for so long, but Azami has somehow quelled that for the most part. It’s as if Azami mellows out when he does makeup. When Kumon keeps trying to peer around Azami to peek in the mirror, Azami grabs his face gently, holding him in place.

“Don’t move around so much,” Azami says softly, gently tapping a powdered brush onto Kumon’s face. Kumon gulps, then whispers back an apology.

“You’re too energetic for your own good sometimes,” the corner of Azami’s mouth lifts in amusement. 

“I know,” Kumon laughs sheepishly. Azami’s fingers are burning an invisible imprint onto Kumon’s jaw. Azami is so concentrated on perfecting the look that he doesn’t even register how close he is to Kumon or how he’s holding the older’s face. 

When they get to the lips, Azami adjusts his hand so that it holds Kumon’s neck in place, thumb on his chin. Kumon stutters in surprise as Azami uncaps a tube of lipstick.

“This is the final touch for this look,” Azami murmurs. 

“Is that the new lip color for your job tomorrow?” Kumon asks. 

“Yeah.”

“You’re nervous?” 

“Yeah.”  
“You shouldn’t be. You’re really good at this, Azami,” Kumon whispers. Azami blinks at him in surprise as he glides the lipstick over Kumon’s lips. God, Kumon thinks Azami looks so serene and so beautiful. He wants to admire that face everyday, wants to admire it as more than just friends. He wants to feel that constant electric sensation he feels when Azami’s hand so much as brushes against his skin. He just wants Azami- and it’s now or never. Kumon doesn’t know what’s gotten into him when he grabs the lipstick out of Azami’s hand. 

“Hey, I’m not done!” Azami yelps. Before he can yell at Kumon, the older takes his hand and plants a kiss on his knuckles. Azami stares, unmoving. Kumon looks up with cheeks as red as the lipstick. Azami’s face reflects the same color. Looks like neither of them need blush.


End file.
